


Carry Me Out

by Anonymous



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Kink Negotiation, May/December Relationship, Mother Complex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, aka the fancy way of saying mommy kink, is this ooc? idk and idc, it's my fic and i get to choose the deeply-seated kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Roman falls in more than just love.
Relationships: Gerri Kellman/Roman "Romulus" Roy
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't written fic in MONTHS and tbh i've kind of moved on from writing it but i've become unhealthily obsessed with the concept of hardcore/bratty sub roman so. maybe i'll make this a series idk i have lots of ideas. if anyone more experienced in this stuff has any advice for writing more detailed scenes, please hmu! 
> 
> s/o to rachel aka hemingwaysghost for helping me actually form cohesive thoughts hehe. another s/o to mitski! hell yeah
> 
> i don't own these characters please @ jesse armstrong don't hunt me in my sleep

He was falling.

Now, Roman's the type of person who would gladly talk about what he has experienced during sexual encounters. Ok, so perhaps that was a bit of a stretch; he loves exaggerating his sexual exploits to be these wild, crazy adventures when they were really just him idly fondling his partner’s genitals, not getting them close enough to orgasm but creaming his own pants within seconds. The point is that any time that allowed him to talk about sex, he took it.

But after all that he’s bullshitted and all that he’s read, he’s never experienced anything like he was experiencing right now. Despite the unfamiliarity and how it was like he wasn’t in control of his own body, he fucking loved it.

Trust him when he says that he has tried the finest New York weed and the most precisely cut cocaine, and yet he has never had a high quite like this. All thoughts about work and his dad and the nuclear bomb his fucking brother dropped on the company went away. In their place came one thought: pleasure Gerri. 

He once caught a glimpse of this TV show during one of his stints with Grace. A woman and a man were having sex when suddenly, the man started disappearing. The woman was absorbing the man through her pussy as he began reaching his climax. The next thing you know, the naked man was floating in an ethereal galaxy, forever pleasured and forever hers.

He didn’t understand it at the time. Thought it was some hippie-dippy bullshit about how sex should be all-consuming or whatever. But now, despite the fact that thinking about anything other than the beautiful woman he was sucking off made his head pound, he understood. This was the only thing that he needed, deserved to do. Fuck Waystar, fuck his decrepit father, and especially fuck his brother who just dived headfirst into a pit of sharks and alligators. All of them didn’t matter as long as he could live in Gerri forever, sustaining off of whatever this new high was forever.

____

To be honest, Gerri didn’t really understand how this happened. It had started like any other night. He came over to her place, the two of them talked about nothing in particular, and he sank to the floor. With his cheek resting lightly on her left leg, his breathing had become slightly staggered. She absent-mindedly reached down to his hair, weaving her fingers in and out of those dirty blond locks she had grown to adore so much.

And now here they were, his hands crudely tied up with one of her husband’s old ties and his mouth sucking desperately on the marble cock she was gifted by him. She kept a stoic face, as she normally does during their scenes. However, his face was conveying a different story; his cheeks were flushed and tears began leaking from his eyes. Poor baby was trying so hard to impress Gerri, nearly choking on the dildo in the process. He was both pathetic and beautiful in this state, her own little pet she can train to do all sorts of tricks.

“Did I say you can close your eyes?” she asked nonchalantly. It would be a lie to say that she didn’t think that she came off as too closed off during their scenes, but he always insisted that he loved it. Still, the thought persisted in her head to her embarrassment. God, she did not even feel this sort of need to pleasure her own husband, let alone her boss’s brat of a son.

A muffled whine came from below her, but he did not open his eyes. In fact, now his movements were slowing down and becoming irregular. 

“Roman?” Gerri asked softly to get his attention. No response was given, other than the continued, staggering movements of his mouth against the strap. She reached out her hand to stroke his cheek in an effort to get his attention. All that did was have his head lay comfortably in her hand as he continued sucking. 

Her breath hitched. As she secured her lover’s head in between her hands, she slowly pulled his mouth off of the dildo, leaving behind a disgustingly long line of spit. That didn’t matter, though; Roman could vomit water all over her carpet as long as he was actively aware of his surroundings and safe. This was something else entirely. This was not Roman. Even in their most intense scenes, he always had a sense of self and knew exactly where he was and what he was doing. This was a Roman she had never seen before, and it scared Gerri half to death. 

As soon as she was fully able to get Roman’s mouth off of the dildo, she began detaching the strap from her body. Unfortunately, she felt soft hands reaching for hers, scrambling to pull them closer. Gerri heard huffs and whines coming from in front of her, but she was too busy trying to pull his hands away from the strap so she could take it off. When she finally looked below her, she saw Roman with his eyes fully open and his pupils blown wider than she'd ever seen them before.

(That’s saying something. She was once called by Logan to hunt him down after a particularly wild party and found him walking in Central Park barefoot and pantsless. He kept mumbling something about “having a bad hit” or something along those lines.)

Most concerning for Gerri, though, was that Roman was crying. Despite all of the problems and disasters she’s been forced to solve for him, she has never once seen him cry. Now, as she has finally gotten the upper hand and completely removed the strap, he is on the verge of hysteria. His words were short and slurred beyond any recognition as he sobbed, trying to grab ahold of Gerri as he laid on the floor. She got off the bed and joined him on the floor, holding him softly.

With his head snuggled onto her shoulder, she began moving her fingertips up and down his back. “It’s okay, love,” she whispered in his ear as his crying stopped and his breathing became somewhat normal, “you did so good tonight, you shouldn’t worry about a thing.”

The two stayed like this for a moment’s time, as Roman calmed down. He has always reverted to some sort of submissive state in their scenes, but he felt like literal gelatin in Gerri’s hands at this moment. The only real way that Gerri could tell that Roman was even still alive was the fact that his breathing had returned to its normal pace. 

“Come on up, pretty boy,” she said as she began lifting the incapacitated man off the floor. He seemed especially receptive to this, weakly reaching up his hands for any sort of touch. In a moment that caught Gerri off-guard, Roman began...giggling? 

Well, not quite. They were more like slurred laughs, but either way he was grinning like a madman as she finally was able to grab a hold of him and lift him up. As soon as Roman was able to sort-of stand up, he collapsed onto Gerri’s body, nearly knocking her onto the bed in the process.

As he began sloppily kissing her neck, he muttered, “Thank you, thank you” in the smallest voice she’s ever heard him have. It was like he was the sad little boy that was left behind in his father’s parks, forgotten about until he was able to find his way into the control room and cry into the park-wide megaphone. 

That is when Gerri realized something crucial; this must be some sort of high for him. Was it possible to be so turned on that you become completely incomprehensible? Knowing how Roman could get turned on by her even if she was sitting completely still, the thought did not seem all that impossible. 

As Roman sloppily and sleepily continued to kiss her neck, he began muttering again. “Am I good enough, mommy?” he asked quietly, as if he knew he was crossing some sort of boundary in his sexed-out brain of his. But Gerri didn’t mind. Being Roman’s mommy was something she has wanted ever since they started their experiment, but she couldn’t take advantage of him in the state he was in.

Instead, she said, “Mommy thinks you’re wonderful, baby boy, but it’s time to rest.” At that, she felt the slightest hint of a smile against her shoulder and she slowly lowered the two of them comfortably on the bed. As soon as Roman’s head touched one of the pillows she had on her bed, it was like a light switch. He was out cold, nuzzling into the pillow as Gerri readjusted the covers so that he would get more. 

As peaceful and blissed-out he looked, Gerri could not help but be worried. She cautiously approached the sleeping man and gathered him in her arms, resulting in some readjusting squirms. In this position, she could hear his heart. Nothing abnormal.

Gerri stayed up nearly the entire night, worried that he could fall out of her arms at any moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerri researches, Roman socializes, and both of them talk about what they want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you don't expect such fast updates as this one in the meantime because...yeah this is an anomaly for me. it's like a horny demon took control of my body and spat this out. anyways thank you for the kind words and kudos!

When he finally started coming to, he found himself on Gerri’s bed. Scratch that, he was on Gerri’s bed, underneath her comforter, resting on a stupidly comfortable pillow. He felt a dull pressure behind his eyes and in his head, like he was dropped on his head like Connor was or something. Hell if he knew how Connor ended up the way he did.

“So,” he heard a soft familiar voice say next to him, “you’re awake.”

Roman turned his body and saw Gerri sitting on the bed next to him, a book in her hand and her laptop perched on a foldable table next to the bed. His vision was still foggy and it hurt to even have them open but in that moment he understood why Orpheus caved in and turned around. Being knocked out cold with no real memory of how he got to the position he was in does a real number on a guy.

Gerri set down her book and inched closer to Roman, uncharacteristically hesitant for what they have progressed into. The back of her palm rested on his forehead for a moment, numbering something about him feeling normal, before she moved it to his cheek. Her look was stoic, but there seemed to be something wrong with her, he noticed. Her eyes didn’t sparkle like they normally did after one of their scenes.

“You really scared me there, Rome,” she said after what felt like an eternity though it was only a few seconds. 

That is what prompted him to sit upwards. “Really, now?” he responded, “I’ve been told by many a trainer that my O-face is fucking supreme.” However, Gerri’s face was as cold as stone as she grabbed his hands.

“Roman, I’m serious,” she said softly, “you were really out of it, to the point where I wasn’t even sure if you were gonna come back.”

The two sat in silence as her laptop continued notifying her of current news or stock market trends or whatever the fuck she had on there. 

“What was the last thing you remember?” she asked, rubbing circles with her thumbs over her lover’s hands. He really had to think about this, despite his headache, because he really didn’t know. 

“I, uh,” he began as he recollected his thoughts, “I was blowing you and then I just sort of blacked out. It felt really fucking good, though.” 

She sighed. “Roman, I’m happy you felt good, I really am,” she said quietly, with a vulnerability that was uncharacteristic of his stone cold killer bitch, “but you were speaking nonsense and crying. You were shivering like a madman, and I don’t know what kind of freaky sex cult shit you usually acquaint yourself with, but I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

And in that moment, he understood why she was so concerned. Gerri has always seen him as some sort of wise-fuck who could barely be able to make sex serious unless scolded into taking it seriously. If he was that far gone, what exactly could’ve happened?

Suddenly, the bed shifted slightly as Gerri readjusted herself. She lifted up the laptop and placed it in between the two of them. “That’s why I think,” she said as Roman sat up against her pillows, “we need to establish our needs and wants. Roman, I want to make sure you are getting what you want out of our,” she paused, “relationship.”

Smirking, he replied, “So this is a relationship now? You finally ready to go steady with me?” 

“I’m being serious,” she replied. That got him to shut up and start taking what she was about to say seriously. He glanced at her laptop and saw a nearly-blank Word document displayed on the screen. On it, two words were bolded and underlined: ONs and OFFs. 

“I want you to be honest with me, Roman,” Gerri said, “what are you...interested in?”

Fuck. 

That was something that Roman had not really thought about up until this point. He liked what he liked, plain and simple. It was not like he kept a list like the one Gerri was insisting on making.

He scratched his neck. “I mean, you know what I like,” he said meekly. It was true, though; whatever Gerri wanted to do, he enjoyed. She could tell him to eat a whole cereal bowl of his own fermented cum and he’d do it without question. 

“If I’m being honest, I don’t,” Gerri replied, “you can’t expect me to automatically know what makes your prick hard at all times.”

“Then why don’t you just take the reins?” Roman asked. His voice was low and husky, to the point where Gerri thought he was getting turned on just by talking. Hell, he probably was with the way his pupils expanded just slightly.

He slowly grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers. “Gerri,” he said, “I don’t know fucking anything. I probably know just as much as you, but I know one thing for certain. I know that whatever you decide that I’m interested in, I am.” He carefully lifted up their interconnected hands and kissed her fingers, just barely ghosting his lips above her knuckles. After kissing each individual finger, he said, “I think you need to tell me what you’re interested in and what you want, because I am all yours.” 

Suddenly, Gerri felt a sizable lump form in her throat. God, he was going to be the death of her.

She might as well just say it right now. “When you were,” she paused, “out of it, you called me mommy.” Gerri avoided his gaze, instead looking down at their hands, still locked together like the end of the world was approaching. She briefly remembers a trip she took to Pompeii some years ago where cremated figures were seen holding hands and being in rather promiscuous positions. 

She could hear Roman gulping but still couldn’t bring herself to look at him dead in the eye. It would be too much for the both of them. Instead, she continued on. “And if you really are serious in that request,” she said, “I’d be honored.”

“Wait, really?” Roman immediately perked up at that.

“Really,” Gerri replied. 

Now he was grinning like she had never seen him grin before. It was almost like this was something that he did not even know was hanging over his head. 

“Okay,” he said.

“Alright,” she said back.

____

Roman had to leave earlier that day. Something about some charity gala that Gerri could not attend, even though he was practically begging her to. When she told him to be on his best behavior, however, he decided to just suck it up and be her good boy for the night.

As for Gerri, she was alone in her apartment, scouring the Internet. If Roman was open for anything that she is interested in, she needs to figure out what she’s interested in first.

Before that, however, she had to learn about what exactly happened the previous night. Thank God she was working on an incognito tab or else any Waystar sleuths would have a field day with some of her search terms:

_ “Partner blacks out during sex” _

_ “Partner gets sad during sex” _

_ “Partner drops during sex” _

That final one seemed to be the one that worked the best, as the first result was an article about something called subdrop. After verifying that she was, in fact, old enough to view this content, she figured it out.

According to the article, Roman ended up getting so sexually aroused that he had a somewhat-out of body experience. The delirium, the extreme mood swings, even the chills and drop in body temperature. It all made sense to Gerri now, at least in the fact that this was not a serious medical problem. At that moment, she was grateful that she decided not to call the ambulance; just imagine how embarrassing that would be for the both of them.

Further down, the article suggests some ways to help a partner ease back into reality after a drop. Turns out that Gerri already had the right idea with some of them, as touches and comforting textures were some of the most highly recommended methods to treating subdrop. Knowing that she did the right thing made her feel a bit better about this new territory that the two of them were facing.

During her perusing, she found a test of sorts as well that claimed to determine what parts of BDSM culture were most interesting to her. As she read through the questions, she noticed that a fair amount of them were geared more towards people like Roman, submissives as she found out they’re called. Seriously, “I believe that my life should be centered around my partner?” “I’d leave everything behind to pursue BDSM full time?” What kind of woman did this quiz take Gerri fucking Kellman for?

Then there were questions that made her feel...something. Whenever she saw something regarding tying up her partner or forcing them to do whatever she pleased, she felt her stomach twist in ways she’s never experienced before. Roman already submitted to her every will, but to have that be taken steps further was something that pervaded Gerri’s thoughts up until the very end. After skipping the survey at the end of the quiz, she received her results.

According to this test, she was completely and totally dominant. Scoring 100% on “Degrader” and 89% on “Dominant,” her cheeks flushed as she sought more information on what exactly all of these terms meant. 

And information she found, alright. 

Gerri closed her laptop and breathed deeply into her hand. Where has this side of her been her entire life? Sure, Baird was a decent fuck, but never in her life did it occur to her that she would want to do the things she does with Roman on him. 

As if his ear was ringing, her phone lit up with a text message from the rat boy himself. 

**I’m bored :(**

Rolling her eyes, she texted him back:

**_Okay? Get over yourself_ **

Of course, the little text bubbles that signaled that he was responding came up as soon as her text was delivered. Of course.

**That’s harder than it sounds, Mistress of the Dark.**

**Can’t you come here?**

She stared at the response for a moment, trying to figure out what to say next. On one hand, she could threaten him, saying that she won’t speak to him until he learned how to be patient. On another hand, she could tell him that she has a surprise (she does not, at least not yet) waiting for him at her apartment if he was a good boy. There were a lot of different options she could take, especially if what he was saying was true and he wanted to make as many decisions for him as covertly possible.

After thinking things through at a record pace, she responded:

**_Call me. Don’t hang up. Keep your phone in your jacket pocket. I want to hear you make good conversation and be the good boy I know you are._ **

That should be motivational enough for him to cooperate, she thought.

____

And so she sat on her bed, idly reading the news she missed today as her phone blared orchestral music and idle conversations. Roman was proving himself tonight, just like she expected him to be. He was even able to set up a meeting with the head of some horror movie company whose first-look deal with a rival studio was set to expire soon. What is even more surprising is that he wasn’t even expected to do that; like any good COO should, he was making decisions for himself on behalf of the company. 

When the event ended and Roman was the only one still on the line, she hung up and sent him a text message:

**_You did good for yourself tonight. If you’re up to it, mommy has a special surprise lined up for you._ **

The response was just as quick as she anticipated.

**Thank you, mommy. Be there soon.**

Now, she waits.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman gets a treat for being a good boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i told y'all that quick updates were rare. in my defense though, i'm in my senior year of college, working a remote job, and in a steady relationship so it's been kinda chaotic in my life lately. sorry!
> 
> thank you again for the comments and kudos. writing this has been kinda stressful for me because i have little experience in writing sex scenes but the support has been lifting my spirits up.

There was nothing else at this moment besides the two of them.

No work, no outside traffic, just her admiring the craftsmanship she created just by reading a couple of quick articles.

For her first time actually doing this in a more methodical way, it honestly wasn’t too bad. After all, it was not like pantyhose was a hot commodity that was only sold once every five years. On the off chance that Roman tore up the old pairs that he had tied around his mouth, she could easily go to the Walgreens a couple blocks away to get new ones. 

A substantial lack of underwear was not exactly a problem Gerri faced either, even if one of her favorite pairs was now stuffed in her lover’s mouth. Every once in awhile, he’d choke around the makeshift gag, soaking with both his saliva and some discharge she was able to get out of herself before he arrived.

“While I’m very pleased with how you behaved tonight,” she said in her normal timbre, “I still think you need to learn a thing or two about patience.”

Roman was trying to say something around the underwear gag, but all that Gerri heard was gargles and muffles. Standing right next to his laying body, she leaned over just above his ear. “There’s no use talking,” she whispered, “not only is it terribly rude of you, but I frankly can’t hear a single thing you’re saying.” She stood back up and gave Roman a quick glance, trying hard not to convey how captivated she was when he was in this state.

She turned around to her nightstand, making sure to spin just enough so that her lingerie shawl briefly caressed Roman’s exposed skin. The memory of him immediately beginning to take off his clothes as soon as he passed her door’s threshold will burn in her mind until her dying breath. He whined slightly at the brief touch of silk to the skin as she perused her nightstand’s drawers for what she was looking for. 

There it was. 

Gerri picked up the tool slowly, just to make sure Roman was paying attention. He was, of course, also captivated by the device, despite the fact that it could fit easily in his hand. He thought that things like these were supposed to be bigger. She turned the device on and when the green light came on, she put her attention to the now-sweating Roman.

“Roman,” she asked nonchalantly as she sat herself down on the bed right next to her boy’s feet, “you know what this is, right?”

He nodded as much as he could with the underwear still balled in his mouth. He knew better than to attempt talking. 

(Who said you couldn’t teach Roman Roy new tricks?)

“You know what I’m going to do with this, right?” she asked again as she brought out a small bottle and began coating the device with it. 

Roman nodded again. Gerri smiled as she sat down on the end of the bed, positioning herself so that her legs were supporting her hovering above her tied up baby boy. God, he looked so sad and pathetic in this position, with her pantyhose holding his hands in place and her juices filling his mouth. He had all of this and he still wanted more. Typical Roy behavior. However, it was too late to punish him now.

“Then you should already know what I’m going to do with it,” she said. He nodded again, accidentally slipping out a strangled moan.

Suddenly, he felt a shock throughout his entire body. It took him a moment to register the fact that Gerri was fingering him. Sure, she only had one finger in, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before she started adding more. If she didn’t exactly know what she was doing right now, Roman sure as hell could not tell.

In fact, she really didn’t. She only just learned how to finger a man’s hole thirty minutes ago from a crude YouTube video she pulled up as soon as she hung up on the phone with Roman. She didn’t know if this was the proper technique the thickly-accented host was talking about, but he sure as hell seemed to be enjoying it. 

And shit, she was enjoying it as well. Sure, this was all entirely new to her, and she was still in the preparation stage, but this sense of control was almost intoxicating. She always liked to make the men in her life, except her late Baird, feel as if they were a bit underneath her, but out of all of the people to take her bait, she could not have expected it to be Roman Roy. 

He was becoming too comfortable with himself in this state. Gerri was sure that he was about to come if she didn’t stop, so she swiftly pulled her finger out. Roman exuded a muffled yelp at the sensation.

“That should be enough for you, greedy pig,” she said, “and did I say you could close your eyes?”

Roman’s eyes, which were starting to roll back into his head, suddenly shot open at the vibrating sensation that was filling his entire body. Gerri climbed over his body, hand still guiding the vibrator that was inside of him, and began straddling him just above his increasingly-leaky dick. Her free hand went to Roman’s hair as she tousled her fingers through it.

Gerri looked down at his sweating, red face. His pupils were wide while his actual eyes were leaking with tears of lust and desperation. “My, my,” she whispered as she lowered her head to his ear, “what big eyes you have.”

That is what sent him over the edge. He was spraying come all over himself and Gerri, who cradled his head as he finished out his orgasm. As he finally emptied himself, he registered the fact that he was still gagged and began coughing. Gerri removed the vibrator from his hole and turned it off with one hand as the other set to getting the underwear out of his mouth. When she pulled out the wad of underwear, it was unsurprisingly coated in his own saliva. She tossed it to the floor, making a mental note to throw it in the laundry later.

“Oh fuck!” he coughed out as soon as uninhibited oxygen filled his lungs once again. Gerri began untying the pantyhose as his coughing fit died down. Once she was done, she took Roman’s freed hands and put them on her hips.

“You did so good tonight, baby,” she shakily said. The effects of this scene were starting to rear their head and if she didn’t get off soon, she just might go insane. She continued, “that’s why mommy is letting you eat her out tonight. Can you do that?”

Roman’s breathing hitched at that. “Yes, I can do that, mommy,” he said, “are you sure I did good tonight?”

Gerri placed a quick kiss on the top of her baby boy’s head. “I’m sure,” she answered as she laid down on the bed, legs stretched out so that Roman could have a good look at her vagina. He switched positions from laying on his back to laying on his stomach as he took his time admiring the work of art that laid in front of him. No wonder that Italian kid took so much time crafting that damn peach to stick his dick in, pretending it was some prick twice his age.

But Gerri’s specimen couldn’t even come close to the deliciousness and the juiciness of any fruit. Roman cautiously licked her folds, eliciting a gasp from the woman above him. That was his sign to get deeper, to continue on this journey he was given permission to go on. He wondered if pussy was a viable option to choose for any death row inmates requesting their last meal. If so, he wouldn’t mind having his head meet a guillotine if it meant the last thing he tasted was Gerri. 

Suddenly, he felt pressure from both sides of his head. Her legs were now fully clenched around his head as she began gushing inside of his mouth, emitting a soft scream as she finally came. The sound of her in ecstasy immediately made Roman come again, as well. If he thought her leaks were delicious, then her actual come tasted like God’s blood, the kind they served at Catholic churches.

(Admittedly, it has been years since he’s been to church. He’d probably burst into flames if he stepped over the mantle, especially now.)

After the two of them finished out, Gerri unlocked her legs and laid on the bed, catching her breath. “Are you still here?” she asked in-between heavy breaths. Roman, still catching his breath as well, gave her a thumbs up. She smiled.

____

It was a strange sort of comfort knowing that Roman was able to hold on this time. To him, it was proof that he could control himself. Sure, he was basically the equivalent of a Raggedy Anne doll at the hands of Gerri, but at least he was able to understand what was even happening.

He was in the bathroom, finishing off a good post-fuck piss. Was it gross of him to idly stare at his dick when he peed? Probably. Did it turn him on again? Surprisingly, no. He needed to make sure that she really didn’t mean it when she said that he had a tiny dick. Outside of their scenes, his dick really wasn’t that small. Short, yes, but the girth was there. 

Just like his dad in every way other than personality, looks, and drive. 

Roman cleans himself off and flushes the toilet. When he walks over to the sink to wash his hands, he gets a good look at himself in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and red, still slightly watering from the intensity of the scene. His lips were also swollen as well. He feels that, for the first time, he actually looks good. Beautiful, even, to certain eyes. 

Sure, he looked like he did, in fact, have a vibrator shoved so far up his hole that he was certain it would reach his pelvis. The fact of the matter was that he looked like he wanted it. Roman Roy, who has never really experienced the happiness he thought he deserved, is fucking happy right now. He is happy whenever he’s with Gerri. He is happy when he allows her to make the decisions that he has such a hard time making. He is happy when someone other than his dad and his siblings get to control him.

The only thing that brought him out of his stupor was the fact that the water he drew to wash his hands was now scalding hot. 

“Shit!” he exclaimed, turning the water off and wiping his hands with a monogrammed towel on the bathroom counter. Absentmindedly, Roman brought the towel to his face and took in its soapy scent. Although it didn’t smell like her specifically, the hints of lavender and vanilla that entered his nostrils made him feel at home.

He wondered for a second where that thought came from. He never acted like this around Tabitha or Grace or any of his other flings and yet, Gerri was the exception. Every time she was around, he was calm. He could actually be able to get out of his own head for a second and be aware of what was going on around him when she was with him. She made him such a better person, even if nobody else could notice but him.

Suddenly, a knock. “You didn’t get a kidney stone, did you?” Gerri’s voice said from behind the door, “you’ve been in there for an ungodly amount of time.”

“You’ve got another bathroom,” Roman retorted. He could hear her sigh softly.

“Yes, but that bathroom is where I keep my meds,” she replied.

He leaned up against the door, still keeping it closed. “Didn’t know that Lady Viagra was on the market already, thought that was still being tested on sewer rats,” he said.

“Roman,” she said, and that was all he needed to finally comply and open the door. Gerri had changed from her lingerie into a loose nightgown while he was having his little existential crisis. Stepping out of the way, he let her into the surprisingly large bathroom to do her thing. Sure enough, she took out a couple of pill bottles and shook the proper amounts out of each.

“Do you, um,” he started, “need some water?”

“No, Roman, I’m good,” she replied, “but thank you for the offer.”

He nodded at her in the mirror as she dry-swallowed her pills. God, this woman was going to be the death of him. Even in moments like these, she managed to be a total badass. Maybe she was the rockstar of this tango, after all, him being a tiny rat she has on her shoulder.

Gerri took out another bottle from her medicine cabinet and handed it to Roman. It was a bottle of mouthwash. “Listen,” she began, “I know that I don’t have an extra toothbrush that I can give you, but I’m not sleeping next to a man whose breath smells like my vagina.” 

Sure, the statement was gross, but it was kinder than most things he was ever told in his life. “Thanks, um” he hesitated to continue, not sure of what to exactly call her at this moment. He felt that Gerri was too formal right now, but he felt like Mommy was too kinky. She could practically see the steam coming out of his ears with how much the gears in his head were turning.

“You can call me whatever you want, Rome,” she said as she looked at him through the mirror. 

“Thanks, Ger,” he settled on. She smiled as she began brushing her teeth. Roman opened up the mouthwash bottle and poured a decent amount into the cap. Taking it back like a shot, he stepped up to Gerri as she brushed her teeth with a stupidly-loud toothbrush. Seriously, how loud could those things even get? Furthermore, how much longer does he need to keep swishing this around his mouth?

She spat out her toothpaste and washed her mouth out with water before reaching over Roman to get the mouthwash. When she was about to pour a cap-full of her own, she noticed her lover still with a mouth full of chlorhexidine.

“Christ,” she said, “what are you waiting for? Spit the fucking mouthwash out!”

Roman did so without hesitation. “Sorry that mouthwash isn’t in my regular cleanliness routine,” he replied, despite the usual bite not being present.

“Well, you should consider making it so,” she replied before walking out of the bathroom. She stopped, seeing that Roman was still standing in the bathroom. “For fuck’s sake, do I need to tell you when to do everything?” she asked, “get out of there and join me in bed.” His feet worked faster than his mind, as Roman briskly walked out of the bathroom and flopped down again onto her memory foam bed. 

She began settling in until he decided that he could not wait any longer. “I mean,” he began, “it would be nice for you to tell me some things to do.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” she asked as she put her glasses back into their case.

“Seriously?” he responded. “You just told me that you didn’t want to always tell me what to do, even out of our freaky sexy times,” he continued, noticing her visibly flinch at that spontaneous name he called their scenes, “but sometimes, I guess it would be nice to be told what you think is best for me, especially now.”

Gerri rolled over to meet his eyes. “Roman, I don’t know why you get a boner at me telling you what to do,” she said, “but you’re your own man. You can’t live your entire life being told what to do.”

“You know better than anyone besides my shit-stain siblings that that is not as easy as it sounds,” he said in a voice that was in-between a whine and a sign. “Look,” he continued, “I’m not asking you to change my diaper. I’m at a place now where I have no fucking clue what I’m doing. I bought my way through my Master’s using some sad sack who’s probably one bad day at the stock market away from Black Thursday’ing himself.”

Her eyes rolled at that. “At least you admit it,” she said.

Roman continued. “Anyways, basically I don’t know shit about being COO. I don’t know how to dress, how to act, and certainly not what to do,” he breathed deeply, “so if you could help me figure all that shit out, I would really appreciate it.”

She settled further into her pillows, her brows furrowed in a way that Roman has interpreted as deep thought. “Tell you what,” she said after a beat of silence, “your first lesson is tomorrow morning. You better wake up when my alarm goes off.”

“But tomorrow is Sunday,” he said.

“Come on, Roman,” she replied, “you know that our line of work never has days off. Now go to sleep. You’re gonna need to get all the sleep you can get.”

He readjusted the pillows on Gerri’s bed so that he could get more comfortable. “Goodnight,” he whispered as his eyes began betraying him. Hearing her voice sleepily tell him “Goodnight” worked better than any lullaby he was ever told or any white noise Tabitha would put on whenever she couldn’t sleep. Whatever she had lined up for him tomorrow, he knew that it was a chance to prove to her that he was the grown-up boy he was always meant to be.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman and Gerri dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how much longer can i repeat that life has been crazy for me? sorry again for the slow updates, my daily life plus the fact that i am currently building out a fic on my ACTUAL account has kind of taken over a bit. ideally, this would have been out sooner after the emmys, but alas! anyways, here's sentimental horny shit.

The first time that Roman was ever called a sociopath was in 2004. He was dating a graduate student at NYU who was studying psychology at the time after meeting her at a comedy club. He is pretty sure that the headliner that night would later be arrested for talking up underage girls on Facebook. He did not remember what led up to it, but they eventually got into an argument that effectively ended their relationship.

_ “You know what, Roman?” _ he remembers her spitting at him as she left, “ _ you’re a fucking sociopath who doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself. Hope your daddy’s money keeps filling up that sad little hole in your heart.” _

Roman hasn’t thought about that girl in a while. He couldn’t even remember her name, but he was sure that she was probably out there somewhere, diagnosing poor people with random illnesses and dragging them deeper in debt with medications. Even then, the moment has always stuck with him.

That is why it wasn’t a surprise when the new therapist he started six weeks ago brought up the idea that he might actually be a sociopath.

He sat in front of his laptop, watching the movements of his new therapist, a man slightly older than him but still proudly boasts his certifications and degrees on the wall behind him. For most of the conversation, he was closed off, giving the normal half-assed answers he always gave in these new sessions. However, the new therapist (Dr. Chapman or Dr. Churchill or something like that) brought him out of his stupor.

_ “Roman, I would assume that you have heard of antisocial personality disorder, correct?” _ the doctor-therapist asked.

Roman could feel his eyes widen.  _ “Actually, no,” _ he said.

The man on the other side of the computer screen sighed.  _ “Antisocial personality disorder can usually be fairly difficult to define,” _ he continues,  _ “but the common characteristic is that the person it affects feels distanced and sometimes even alienated by their own emotions.” _

_ “Shit, that kind of sucks,” _ Roman replied.

_ “Yes,” _ the man replied,  _ “you can say that it sucks.” _

The therapist talked some more about this disorder and told Roman to pick up new medication. No more Prozac for this little man! Now, he’s upgrading to the Big Boy Lexapro! The therapist ended the Zoom conference soon after that, leaving Roman to stare at his computer screen absentmindedly a bit more. 

After a quick Google search, Roman found out that sociopathy was just the shortened version of this antisocial something or other. That was when he remembered his NYU ex and her final words to him before she left his life forever. 

The thing was, if this feeling of not really caring about others or the feeling of not having any feelings at all was what she meant, she was probably right. After all, she was studying psychology. Roman looked outside his window, watching small amounts of masked people still walking on the streets below. He had told Kendall over the phone once this whole pandemic started that this was a test of natural selection and to see what kind of people are truly built for this world. As ATN reported the skyrocketing numbers and even reported on the deaths of some of their very own, he stood still in his belief. Hell, not even did the diagnosis and swift hospitalization of Shiv, who was in tip-top health before this virus came through, made him question if he was in the wrong.

He didn’t think to question himself because he didn’t fucking care. 

He remembered when Shiv was first discharged from the hospital, setting up a Zoom meeting with her and her beloved brothers.  _ “It was like I constantly had something in my throat,” _ she said over a crackling broadcast feed,  _ “then it kind of spiraled from there to the point where I actually couldn’t breathe.” _

_ “Jesus, Shiv,” _ Connor had said during the call. Kendall followed suit with,  _ “I’m so sorry, sis, but I’m happy you’re feeling better.”  _

_ “Thanks, guys,” _ she replied,  _ “I’m one of the lucky ones. I really wouldn’t wish this on anyone.” _

_ “Come on, not even that assistant you were banging?” _ Roman said off the cuff. That elicited a groan from his siblings. 

_ “You’re fucking with her, right?” _ Kendall asked,  _ “our, actually your sister could’ve died in there and your first reaction is to that?”  _

All Roman could do is shrug. “ _ You know she’s just happy she can go back to those Eyes Wide Shut meetings now that she won’t contaminate anyone,” _ he replied. Shiv rolled her eyes but pressed forward. He couldn’t recall anything else in that conversation. He was sure it went well and that they all but forgot about his crude remark. They always do. They always do because they have become accustomed to the fact that he couldn’t feel. 

But now, he’s not so sure. 

See, he has always found Gerri attractive. He remembers asking his mother as a kid if Gerri’s daughters could come over to play with him, only to be shot down for reasons that still pervade him. Maybe she believed that boys and girls shouldn’t be friends unless they are in a romantic relationship. That wouldn’t surprise him in the least bit, knowing Caroline.

The thing is that Gerri is the only person he actually, truly cares about. He wants to make her happy. He wants to comfort her when she’s said. He would do everything he could to make sure she recovered if she got sick. He wants to be at her side until she closes her eyes for the last time. 

Is he really a sociopath then if he only felt love and emotion towards one person? 

____

It wasn’t like Gerri’s marriage to Baird was bad.

Far from it, actually. He was a caring, loving man who rarely raised his voice to either him or their two girls. Despite the company that he, and eventually she, worked for, he was an honest man. He expressed apprehension towards risky deals (he would be overridden in every circumstance) and he was one of the few men bold enough to attempt to challenge Logan. Baird was the best of the best, and Gerri loved him for it.

The problem was that he challenged everyone but her. Even in instances where she decided to be purposefully stubborn, he never budged. She constantly wanted to know what he was actually interested in deep down beyond his exterior. After all, it was not like he was constantly thinking about work and taking care of their family, at least she presumed. Gerri often wondered if Baird couldn’t pick up on her cues. Was he just not interested, or was she just too subtle and not sharp enough in her delivery?

It was a question that haunted her when Baird collapsed that fateful day in their shower. It was a question that haunted her as she told the hospital doctor that she approved of her husband being taken off life support. It was a question that haunted her as she threw his ashes into the Hudson, neither of her daughters at her side.

If she was just more direct with what she wanted instead of giving up because he could not see-

_ “No,” _ she would think to herself sometimes,  _ “don’t think like that.” _

She could not allow herself to think like that. Harboring the what-ifs is a sign of weakness. That was one of the first things Baird had said to her during their first date, sitting in the corner of a long-closed coffee shop. What she would do to travel back in time to her scrappy law student self in times like these. Perhaps she could tell herself not to get herself entangled with the Roy family, a proper warning before the shitstorm fully hit her.

( _ “What do you mean?” _ her younger self would ask.

_ “Just trust me on this,” _ she would reply.)

The problem with that theoretical circumstance is Roman. It was not like she was ever really close with the man. In fact, she honestly forgot about his existence sometimes. They only really interacted with each other when he needed help getting himself out of a sticky situation. It wasn’t like the kids were clamoring to invite her daughters over for playtime. If they were, she certainly never heard anything about it.

After all of her years of working for them, she noticed that the Roys had a habit of regarding many of the people in their spheres as dispensable. Unless they serve a specific purpose that they need in that moment, the Roy family treated their cohorts like chess pieces; it is a constant competition between Logan and his four offspring to see who can manipulate and fuck as many lives as possible. Gerri was long past feeling guilty for letting so many things happen under her nose, but she wondered if Baird felt the same.

Another question left unanswered, always hanging in the air until it was ripped from them.

The thing with Roman is that he’s different, and not in the stereotypical way that so many men in the one dollar romance novels in her favorite bodega. Sure, he was just as guilty of using people to his own advantages as the rest of his family. That was something that she could never dispute. However, at the end of the day, he did it for protection. He used people because he was a lonely boy who desperately needed somebody to be there for him, even if he was paying them to do so. 

He did not need to pay for her, though. The moment she heard his staggered breathing and desperate panting for the first time that fateful night, they were connected by a bond few people could understand. Roman found someone who was willing to give him the things he wants, and Gerri found someone who wasn’t afraid to open himself up to her.

Roman could answer the questions Baird never could. 

Granted, his answers were originally difficult for Gerri to interpret when they first started their relationship. Some of his answers still are, but they are slowly and surely getting more direct. She was grateful for the night he and her discussed what they wanted. Him finally admitting that he got turned on by giving all control to her finally filled a gap in their relationship that was left unanswered for far too long.

She remembers the first night they attempted to upgrade from phone sex to somewhat physical sex. She had laid her, at the time, small collection of sex toys on her bed for him to choose from. 

_ “Well,” _ she asked,  _ “are you interested in any of these?” _

Roman had scratched the back of his neck as he examined the toys.  _ “Uh,”  _ he replied. She could tell that he was already getting turned on just by the shakiness of his voice.

Gerri sighed.  _ “You need to use your words,” _ she said. She rested her hand on his back, which he shrugged away. At the time, she had taken it as a rude gesture, but now she understands that he was stressed out. Although he can’t write off everything with the “I’m a little directionless boy who needs someone to help him pull his pants up” attitude, at least she now knew there was a reason behind the coldness.

However, the coldness has already dissipated now. Ever since the subdrop moment propelled her to finally talk to him about what they want, Gerri has noticed wonders in Roman’s sexual abilities. He was so very good to her just a few hours before as he was choking on her fluids. So receptive and focused on making her happy that he was happy as well. 

Knowing that she was the person who has already changed gave her a rush she hasn’t felt in years. It made her feel like that bright-eyed law student who laid eyes on another student named Baird Kellman for the first time. Even though she was still getting used to being called Mommy and was still just as new to this subculture as Roman was, knowing that she is a shrine that someone comes to in their time of need was, admittedly, intoxicating to Gerri. It went beyond what she believed she wanted with Baird, and hell even the meaningless dates she went on in the aftermath. She wanted to be the sole person someone can come to all along. If something more sexual and promiscuous comes along with that, so be it. 

The sound of her six A.M. alarm woke Gerri out of her sleep, which was the soundest she has had in a very long time. 


End file.
